Paradise? (Season 4, Episode 11)
by bionic4ever
Summary: When Jaime and Steve attempt to finally enjoy a honeymoon, a threat to world peace will teach them the true meaning of 'Paradise'...if they can survive.
1. Prologue

**PARADISE?** - Season 4, Episode 11  
Prologue

Jaime hadn't stopped chattering since the boat had dropped them off, and aside from a brief moment when he wondered (with a chuckle) who had put a quarter in her, it made Steve's heart sing to hear her sound so genuinely happy again. ''They said a cabin - a _cabin_, Steve! This place is almost as big as our house! And have you seen the kitchen? There's all sorts of fresh fruit...and seafood...and steaks! I think I saw a grill outside, too! Oh - and chilled champagne! And...the bedroom! Did you _see _the bed?''

''The OSI likes to go in style,'' he told her, doubting she'd heard him as she danced and flitted from room to room. It was indeed, spacious for a 'cabin' but built and furnished in the style of the Islands, so it retained that small island feel. Steve had, in fact, poked his head into the bedroom (what honeymooner wouldn't?). The king-sized bed had a puffy down-filled comforter nestled across the top and plenty of down pillows piled at the headboard. The rest of the house was luxuriously cozy too - but he was a man and this _was_ his honeymoon. There was no hurry, though. He was just happy to be here with Jaime and - after all they'd been through with Cobra for more than two months - happy that they were both _alive_.

It was a honeymoon long overdue. He and Jaime had just celebrated their one-month anniversary but a hospital stay (one of many, during Cobra's reign of terror) just two days after they'd eloped had necessitated some further recovery time at home afterward before their team of doctors felt they were strong enough to truly enjoy this trip. The cast had finally been removed from Steve's arm - and Jaime had adjusted well to her second bionic replacement surgery in less than a month. After everything they'd both been through, Oscar had arranged this trip as a reward/rejuvenation for them - two weeks of sunshine in Paradise, with nothing to do but enjoy each other and spend some quality time re-connecting again. Their doctors (Rudy and Mark Conrad) were housed in another cabin on the opposite side of the tiny, private island (should any needs arise) but with the lush vegetation it was as if he and Jaime were completely (finally) alone.

And suddenly, Jaime's happy chattering stopped. She'd emerged from the bedroom and was smiling at him, wearing a bikini top and sarong skirt that left him speechless too. ''I'm guessing you like it?'' she laughed. ''How 'bout you pick your jaw up off the floor and we go out and stick our toes in that water?''

''Lady, in that outfit, I will follow you anywhere!''

Where he _did _follow her was outside and across the lush green lawn to their own private strip of white sand that bordered crystal-blue water in front of the cabin. Jaime shed the sarong (to Steve's great appreciation) and dove straight in, looking every bit like she'd been born to frolic in the clean, clear water. When he didn't immediately follow, she giggled and sent a bionic tidal-wave of a splash in his direction, almost forcing him to strip down.

''Gotta get you out of those civvies and into some _fun _somehow!'' she crowed joyfully. Her splash had the desired effect, as Steve was 'forced' to strip down to his boxers - and soon they were playing in the surf together, laughing, splashing...and pausing every so often for long, deep, tantalizing kisses.

''Are you _sure _you want to be swimming right now?'' Steve asked, pulling her even closer.

''Well...'' Jaime leaned into him...and then her whole body stiffened. ''Steve? I hear something...''


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

''I _hear _something!'' Jaime had insisted.

Steve was still holding her close, her body in direct contact with his as they stood in the surf. ''Birds?'' he suggested. ''Water...wind?'' There was no one around for many, many miles...except the two doctors on the other side of the private island. ''Maybe...Mark and Rudy grilling hot dogs?''

''Shhh!'' Jaime listened intently for a few more moments, then shook her head. ''Gone now. But I heard the word '_Goldman_...and then something that sounded like 'tree-keepers' or 'beekeepers'...''

''Somehow, I don't think Oscar raises bees in his backyard for fun and profit, Sweetheart,'' Steve told her lightly. ''Which arm do you wanna slug?'' he asked (knowing it was coming, for a crack like that).

''Neither; I'd rather do _this_...'' Jaime tilted her head up, stared directly into her husband's smiling eyes and pressed her mouth fully against his. They were as close together as a man and a woman who were still clothed could be (however slight those clothes might have been). Their eyes remained open, gazing down into the depths of each other's souls and uniting there.

''Here...or in the house?'' Steve panted when they _had _to catch their breath.

''_Both_!''

* * *

Mark and Rudy were, in fact, _not_ grilling hot dogs, but had made a beeline for the two biggest steaks in their kitchen - and their own grill outside the cabin. It was a 'working vacation' for both of them, but a vacation, nonetheless. Aside from meeting with Steve and Jaime every morning (just for 'fine tuning'), Mark would be working their cases and progress into his charts and reports on PTSD (being careful to leave out any identifying factors or mention of bionics, of course). Rudy's main 'assignment' was to be some rest and recuperation of his own. During the two months Grant Kingsley and Cobra had terrorized them all, the older doctor had experienced several 'cardiac incidents'; nothing that ventured into the realm of a full-fledged cardiac arrest and he had fully recovered now, but two weeks of sunshine, sand and relaxation would do wonders for his vigor...and his outlook. His 'job' while they were here was to check on Steve and Jaime once a day - Steve's newly-healed left arm and ribcage and Jaime's adjustment to two new legs - and spend the rest of the day doing as little as humanly possible and simply enjoying himself. Digging into a thick, juicy grilled steak was an excellent start.

* * *

Steve luxuriated in _finally_ being able to wrap _both_ of his arms around Jaime...and hold her the way he liked best, across his chest where his fingers could dance through her hair - and sometimes (like right now) they could feel each other's heartbeats. There were no words necessary...for either of them. They'd said all they needed to say - with their hands, lips and bodies. They laid close together, intertwined, catching their breath and scarcely daring to believe that (after two months of pure Hell) such perfect bliss was actually possible.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to paint the horizon over the water in glorious shades of pink, purple and fiery orange when Jaime emerged from the cabin with a platter of fish...and laughed at her husband. ''Do you mean to tell me I tossed a salad, sliced the fresh bread they left for us, made a lemon butter sauce and seasoned the fish...and the grill _still _isn't lit?''

''Rhythms are slower on the islands, Sweetheart...just going with the flow,'' Steve told her.

''Want me to light it for you? You...can hold the platter,'' she said, handing him the fish before he had a chance to even open his mouth to disagree. Within seconds, tiny wisps of smoke were coming from the coals and very soon they glowed almost the same bright orange color as the sky.

''I was just...saving myself for later,'' Steve chuckled. He held the platter back out to Jaime, but suddenly she was standing stock-still, _listening _with a finger to her lips. ''Jaime...?'' he asked, after several minutes.

Jaime shook her head...but clearly not in response to her husband. She was trying - and failing - to make sense of what she thought she'd heard. ''Probably nothing,'' she said, trying to pass it off. ''Just some weird series of words - or maybe names...I'm not sure.''

''Must be those Island spirits talking to you again,'' Steve joked. (He made a mental note to consult privately with the doctors in the morning.)

* * *

''And Kingsley's mind control devices were ground to dust,'' Russ summarized. ''I saw to it myself.''

''Oscar, are you sure - really 100 percent sure - there's no chance of further problems with this...this 'mind control' garbage?'' Hansen sputtered.

''Absolutely,'' Oscar promised. ''We can safely go ahead now with plans and arrangements for the Peacekeepers Conference.''


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They feasted on snapper and fresh bread on a blanket spread over the white sand of their own private paradise and then Jaime leaned back into Steve's arms with a contented sigh...and a giggle.

''Whatcha thinking about?'' he asked.

''Island spirits.'' She tipped her head to look at him. ''There's no such thing really...is there?''

''Depends who you ask,'' Steve told her in a 'very' serious tone. Then he grinned. ''And also how much champagne you've had.''

''Well, we _are _celebrating, right? So the 'island spirits' have to approve of that!''

Steve chuckled. ''In that case, maybe I should head in and grab another bottle.''

''Take the plates in, will ya? It'll save me the trouble later.'' Jaime shifted to kiss him, then dutifully handed him the empty plates. ''Prob'ly should leave the glasses, though...'' she giggled.

When Steve stepped back out of the cabin (with another chilled bottle), he paused for a minute on the steps, just taking in the way the bright, tropical moonlight reflected off the sand and made Jaime's hair look like spun gold. Then he noticed that her head was tilted quizzically again, with her right side toward the water...as if she was trying to listen to something. While she was still preoccupied, Steve ducked back into the cabin and picked up the datacom. They'd been given a special frequency to use, between their cabin and the doctors'...and Steve headed for the furthest corner of the bedroom, keyed up and spoke in hushed tones.

''Hey Docs, anybody there?''

''Something wrong, Steve?'' Rudy answered.

''I'm...not sure. I think something's going on with Jaime's hearing...or possibly something going on in her head...I don't know how to describe it. But if you guys could each...um...separate us tomorrow so I can talk to you, that'd be great.''

''You're sure it's nothing serious?'' Rudy probed, frowning. (Steve was very unlikely to call them the first night on the island unless something was really _wrong_.) ''We can stop over tonight if you need us to.''

''We'll be fine. I just need to run it by you in the morning,'' Steve assured him.

''Alright; well, let us know if there's anything you need tonight.''

''Will do - and thanks. Out.'' Steve put the datacom back where he'd gotten it - on the bamboo coffee table - and hurried back to Jaime. She was still in _listening _mode, but looked up to smile when she heard him coming across the grass. ''You okay?'' he asked lightly.

''Yeah. I think so, anyway. But...''

''What is it, Sweetheart?'' he asked, sinking down beside her on the blanket and enveloping her in his arms.

''Well...Oscar is keeping bees again. But I think I just need some more champagne.''

''Well, _I_ think you need some more of _this_...'' Without releasing his embrace of her, Steve turned Jaime around in his arms and kissed her in a way that she swore she felt down to the tips of her bionic toes. The bottle of champagne was quickly forgotten as they made full use of their blanket spread under the stars.

* * *

The next morning, Steve was still slumbering heartily when Jaime padded out to the kitchen and got coffee started (giving thanks for the generators that ensured she could _make _her morning's coffee) and cut up some of each of the fruits that had been left for them, fashioning a little fruit salad to go with the cheesy scrambled eggs she made next...just before waking her husband with a kiss. ''Breakfast is ready,'' she whispered. ''Oh...and as much as I enjoy the view, you might wanna throw something on because Mark and Rudy'll be here in less than an hour.''

''I thought there were no watches allowed in Paradise,'' Steve grumbled lightly.

''I'm on internal 'Jaime-time', but would you prefer staying oblivious...and having them catch you like _that_?''

''Good point.''

'Jaime-time' proved remarkably accurate. They'd no sooner polished off the eggs, toast and fruit salad when the knock came at the front door. ''Good morning!'' Jaime greeted the doctors happily. ''There's coffee on!''

Mark helped himself to a mug and then lightly touched Jaime's arm. ''Let's take a walk, you and me,'' he suggested. ''Might even be persuaded to dabble these toes in the surf.''

''You're about as subtle as a rock,'' Jaime told him, settling down onto the sand.

''Really? You'd deny that I might want to stick my toes in this crisp-looking water?'' Mark joked. He sat down beside Jaime. ''Just wanted to hear how married life is agreeing with you.''

''It's _wonderful_,'' Jaime affirmed.

Mark was eying her closely. Her eyes were sparkling and her smile seemed genuine. He hadn't spoken with Steve first (to find out what he _thought _might be wrong) as he'd wanted to approach Jaime with a clean slate. He and Rudy had worked it out this way for exactly this reason. ''How'd you sleep last night, with all of this fresh, tropical air?'' he asked, careful to keep his tone light and strictly conversational.

''Um...'' Jaime blushed. ''We're on our honeymoon, so...''

''Gotcha; sleep not exactly high on the priority list,'' Mark laughed. ''But when you _did _sleep...any nightmares?''

''Only happy dreams allowed here, by decree of the Island Spirits,'' Jaime giggled.

''Island Spirits?''

''You'll have to ask Steve. I have no idea,'' she admitted.

''And you're getting along alright, with so much concentrated time to spend alone with each other?'' he probed. Jaime simply raised an eyebrow at him. ''My job; you _had_ to know I'd ask. Besides, after everything you've both been through, it would be perfectly normal for minor difficulties to crop up, either on your own _or _as a couple. And that's why I'm here...to help you deal with that, if it should happen.''

''I know...and I'm glad. But really, everything's fine. Appetite is fine, no nightmares - or even bad dreams - and the parts of last night that I'm choosing _not _to share with you...were especially fine.''

From Jaime's words, her actions and her appearance, Mark couldn't see anything out of the ordinary going on with her. If something really _was_ wrong, maybe Rudy would spot the problem.

* * *

''Well, I checked Jaime's hearing, her reflexes and her general health,'' Rudy summed up when he and Mark were back inside their own cabin. ''I can't find anything wrong with her.''

While Rudy had been with Jaime, it was Steve's turn to head outside with Mark - and they'd taken a walk further back into the vegetation, speaking in the lowest of tones so Jaime wouldn't overhear them. Steve had outlined for him what had happened...and Mark now had a theory. ''I wonder if Jaime's mind might be replaying bits and pieces of conversations from her past...a sort of 'rapid rewind'. She came right to the brink of death - and more than once - so maybe this is her mind's way of confirming that every part of her...past, present and future...is still intact. Taking an emotional inventory, so to speak.''

''Steve said she _heard _these things out over the ocean...or thought she did,'' Rudy pointed out.

Mark shrugged. ''I don't know what to tell you about that. We'll have to keep a close eye on her, when we check in every morning. And Steve will keep us apprised. She seemed perfectly fine to me though - and the happiest she's been in a very long time. _That_ goes for both of them.''


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After the doctors had gone, Steve brought a glass of pineapple juice out to where Jaime was standing with the waves washing over her feet. ''Thirsty?'' he offered. She seemed lost in thought. ''Jaime...?''

''What? Oh...thank you.'' She took a long drink from the glass and then smiled...but her eyes didn't smile with her.

''Sweetheart? Talk to me...?'' Steve moved to take her gently in his arms.

''I'm _fine_,'' she said softly, tilting her head up to kiss him.

''And wasn't one of the first things I taught you...that you couldn't lie to an Intelligence man?'' Steve reminded her. He sat down on the water's edge, gently pulling Jaime down with him.

''I'm not lying...exactly.'' Jaime began tracing tiny patterns in the sand with her fingertips. ''I guess I thought Rudy was gonna find something funky going on with my ear - but he didn't. It would've explained why I heard stuff...while you didn't see anything. But you know what?'' she said, her mood beginning to lift when she looked into Steve's eyes. ''I'm here on this very private beach with the most handsome man on the planet...and you know what I wanna do right now?'' Jaime smiled seductively...then grabbed both of his shoulders and pulled him toward the water. ''I wanna dunk him in the surf!'' she crowed. ''Can't lie to an Intelligence man,'' she giggled when their heads surfaced from her 'dunking'...''but I can _fool _one!''

''Oh, you think so, do you?'' Steve laughed. ''What if I told you I'd _wanted _to dive in the water - and gave you a subliminal suggestion?''

''Not buyin' it, Colonel! Face it; I _win _this round!''

Steve ducked under water again...and came up with his fingers arched into 'talons'. ''Ah...but there is no escaping The Tickle Monster!'' he told Jaime, wriggling all of his fingers into the sides of her waist, where she was supremely ticklish. She shrieked happily and bobbed under the surf to escape...coming up directly into both of his arms, which encircled her immediately.

''Game...Set...Match...'' she whispered, succumbing to exactly what he had in mind next.

* * *

''Want me to light the grill again,'' Jaime teased, ''so it's hot when the skewers are ready? Otherwise lunch might take til dinnertime...and I'm hungry!''

''Very funny. I think I can handle it,'' Steve laughed. A few minutes later, as Jaime was threading shrimp onto the last skewer, Steve poked his head inside. ''Ah...Sweetheart?''

''That grill just doesn't like you, does it? Tell you what; if you can throw a drizzle of honey over that salad and squeeze a lemon over the shrimp, I'll get the grill going.''

''Lemon on the salad, honey on the shrimp. Got it.'' He offered his arm, knowing he was about to get slugged.

Jaime lit the grill and got the coals nice and rosy then they grilled the shrimp skewers together, with Steve behind Jaime and his hands over hers, moving in perfect synchronicity. Feeding them to each other felt corny and silly...but they did it anyway. Steve offered to take care of the clean-up while Jaime relaxed a bit in the sunshine (''so I can wear you out all over again'', was his wording). He had just finished washing the couple of dishes and was wiping the counter top when he heard Jaime call him - in something between a cry of pain and a shriek of fear. Her ran to her, knelt down in the grass by her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ''What happened?'' he asked. ''Are you in pain?''

''No...but I heard it again! Really garbled and I didn't understand a lot of it; more like a code than a foreign language. But Steve...I did hear the word _kill_!''

''From somewhere on the island?'' Steve puzzled. He knew how thoroughly the tiny island had been checked by Security before they'd come, to prevent worries like this one.

''No; from _out there_!'' Jaime insisted, pointing out over the water.

Just as Steve had done when Jaime had talked about Oscar and the bees (or trees...), Steve focused out as far as his eye could see and found...nothing. This time, as much as it pained him (and as much as he knew Jaime would _not_ be happy), he couldn't wait until the next morning; he summoned the doctors. She was either hearing something (with absolutely nothing out there for it to be coming from) or there was something terribly wrong.

* * *

Steve was right...Jaime was _not _happy. ''You don't believe me,'' she said in a soft, hurt voice while they waited for Rudy and Mark.

''Of course I believe you. You heard...something. We just need to make sure it's not a malfunction in your ear - or a new kind of flashback.''

''Steve, for it to be a flashback, it has to have been something I've experienced and I've never heard these sequences of names, numbers, words - whatever they are - before in my life!''

Mark and Rudy arrived quickly and this time examined Jaime together, with Steve present and no pretext of separating them to 'dabble toes in the surf'. Without all but the most basic equipment, there wasn't much Rudy could do to test her ear but from what he could see, it appeared to be in fine working order. Then an awful thought occurred to him.

''Honey,'' he began slowly, ''before you heard these _things_...was there a loud BUZZing noise in your head?'' (Could she have been zapped by Kingsley's mind control device without having realized it...?)

''What? No! There's no buzzing,'' Jaime told him.

Mark looked at Jaime with gentle, understanding eyes. ''The word 'kill' makes me think you might possibly be reflecting back on your experiences with Kingsley; it could be your mind's way of letting it all go and -''

''You don't understand - _any_ of you!'' Jaime protested. ''I'm not hallucinating, hearing voices from nowhere. My ear is perfectly fine and this isn't some kind of psychological standing on my head and shaking the cobwebs loose! I know what I heard. Well...I know _some _of what I heard...but I know that it was real!''

Her vehemence was beginning to convince Rudy. ''What - _exactly_- did you hear, Honey?'' (All Steve had told them was that she thought Oscar was keeping bees...or trees...and that she was hearing messages she couldn't quite make out.)

''It's been a lot of names or numbers or...sequences of some kind. And yesterday I heard the name _Goldman _and something about 'beekeepers'...''

Rudy tried to hide his alarm. While Steve had been out of the OSI loop (on a sort of 'injured reserve') and Mark really wasn't privy to the most inner workings of the organization, Jaime's words struck an immediate chord with Rudy. He would need to get through to the States...and _fast_!


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Although Rudy had hidden his reaction from Jaime, Steve saw the older doctor's eyes grow suddenly dark and alarmed with the spark of recognition. ''What's going on, Doc?'' he asked flat out. ''Jaime can handle anything I can...and she's been re-activated. You don't have to keep anything from her.''

''Jaime,'' Rudy began, ''I think what you heard was the word _Peacekeepers_.''

''That's it!'' Jaime agreed. _Finally _someone believed her! ''What does it mean?''

''Oscar is in the middle of helping to arrange for the upcoming Peacekeepers Conference,'' Rudy explained. ''Twelve countries meeting from all around the world...and a handful of other countries who'd like very much to stop that from happening. It's already been postponed twice for security reasons but before we left to come here, Oscar told me they'd instituted a new fail-safe security program for the conference, with each name attached to a specific passcode.''

''That sounds like exactly what Jaime was hearing,'' Steve agreed. ''But...I didn't see a single boat on the horizon; not even a plane in the air.''

''Exactly. I can't explain how Jaime's ear is picking that up this far South, especially since that list was never given out - much less broadcast - in its entirety. It just doesn't make sense...''

''A sub?'' Jaime theorized. ''Steve wouldn't be able to see a sub...''

''I don't think you'd be able to _hear_ anything from one either, Sweetheart,'' Steve told her. ''Rudy...could Jaime's ear be catching transmissions _from this island _and -''

Jaime shook her head. ''What I heard, I heard out over the water, Steve.''

''We're surrounded by water on all sides,'' Rudy said thoughtfully. ''A transmission _from_ the island _could _potentially bounce back for your ear to pick up...''

''Security went over the whole island with a fine-toothed comb before we got here,'' Steve pointed out.

''Then we need a _finer_-toothed comb,'' Jaime said sensibly. ''Let's go check it out,'' she told Steve.

''Now, wait a minute!'' Steve told her. ''You wait here with Rudy and Mark - and _I'll _check things out.''

''Nothing doing! You just finished telling Rudy that I can handle anything you can -''

Steve shook his head. ''I didn't mean -''

''You either have faith in me...or you don't.''

Steve headed for the bedroom and dug around to the bottom of his suitcase. When he found what he was looking for, reluctantly (since Jaime was _right there _watching him with her firmly-set jaw and flashing eyes) he tucked the gun in his waistband.

''A _gun_? You brought a gun...here?''

''You weren't supposed to see it -''

''Well, obviously!''

''Jaime...Sweetheart..._this _is why I'm going by myself. I can deal with whatever's out there and -''

''And so can I - so cut the macho crap and let's get _on_ with it!'' Jaime fumed...then she looked at Steve's face, and into his eyes. ''What are we doing?'' she asked softly. ''This is supposed to be our honeymoon..._our _island...''

Steve wrapped an arm tenderly around her waist. ''Then let's go reclaim our island so the honeymoon can resume,'' he whispered.

''Besides, you do need my hearing, you know,'' she pointed out.

''I know.'' They walked arm in arm back to the living room where Rudy was at the emergency radio.

''Oscar needs to be notified,'' he announced. ''But with transmissions coming and going from we-don't-know-where, I'm not sure I trust this radio enough to call Washington on it. But I did radio for a boat to Paradise Island. Mark and I'll call Oscar from there...and be back in a few hours. While we're waiting, let's think this out a little more.''

''If there's someone else on the island with us...that's really creepy,'' Jaime said, shivering briefly in spite of her best effort to cover it up.

''Bear in mind that you might not be looking for a _person_,'' Rudy pointed out.

''Well we're certainly not looking for 'island spirits','' Jaime added.

''Like Steve said,'' Rudy went on, ''this island was checked from sand strip to sand strip and back again, just before we got here. It's unlikely anyone would've snuck on and hunkered down later, knowing both cabins were occupied.''

''Unless they were looking for...us,'' Jaime said (with another tiny shiver).

''If we were targets of whatever this is, they'd have 'taken' us already,'' Steve argued calmly. ''I think what Rudy's trying to say is that we should look for some sort of transmitter - that the source of what you heard isn't really human.''

''It was a _human _voice, Steve!''

''Jaime,'' Rudy instructed, ''when you go out there, keep your ear tuned for anything that sounds out of place. _Anything_– an electronic whine...a buzzing sound...more transmissions. Steve, keep a close eye out for even the smallest disturbances in the ground cover - anything that doesn't look like it should be there. Of course, be alert that any sort of transmitter or radio device might have a hidden trap so watch out for that too.''

''And watch out for each other,'' Mark told them both.

* * *

Steve and Jaime decided to head for the longer of the two tips that jutted out from each side of the island. They were careful to keep their footfalls soft and their voices even softer. They had reached the most lushly dense portion and were finding exactly nothing...until Jaime grabbed Steve's arm and led him (or more aptly, her ear led them both) further into the trees. Finally Jaime stopped - and Steve looked up.

''It's a little radio tower,'' he said quietly, ''built right into the top of the tree.''

''Very good!'' a man chuckled, stepping out of the bush he'd been hiding in. He had a gun pointed straight at Jaime. ''And this is as far as the two of you are going to go.''


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

''It's unfortunate for you that your little walk brought you here,'' the gunman told Jaime and Steve. ''Quite an abrupt end to such a lovely vacation. And such awful timing. A few minutes in either direction and you'd have missed me, since I'm only here to check on...well, on what you so 'accidentally' discovered.''

Steve and Jaime stood with one arm around each other's waists - exactly the way they'd come through the trees - and Jaime's right hand was resting on the gun that Steve had tucked in the waistband of his shorts (hidden by the loose shirt that he wore). An entire spectrum of thoughts went though Jaime's mind in seemingly a split second. With the training she'd recently completed, she had the ability to draw that gun and fire...but the training had also taught her that when faced with a situation like this one, shooting to wound or disable was _not _an option. The gunman would go down with the gun still in his hand...and potentially kill them both.

_Kill or be killed..._

She could see herself on that roller coaster, with either Kingsley or herself about to plummet 90 feet to the ground. There had been no time for conscious thought then...but it seemed like _this _split second, where she had essentially the same decision to make, went on forever.

_Kill or be killed..._

Jaime curled her hand around the butt of the gun and felt for the trigger with one finger. There was really no other choice to be made. Then...the choice was taken away from her.

''_This way_!'' the gunman ordered. He grabbed Jaime's left arm and wrenched her away from Steve. ''Both of you - toward the water. Less messy clean-up for me that way,'' he laughed. ''Somehow I doubt you're tourists...or even honeymooners. FBI? CIA? NSB? Doesn't really matter now, does it?''

It was only a few steps to the water and the gunman pushed Jaime in and raised his gun. Suddenly, he was peppered by shots from several directions at once. Speedboats tore around the tiny island from both sides and more were heading toward them from out in the open water. Steve tucked his own gun back in his waistband and rushed to help Jaime. She was sputtering water as she surfaced but was unharmed. Steve lifted her gently into one of the boats, stepped in beside her and (after identifying himself) requested a lift to the cabin, to spare Jaime the walk back through the trees.

''This island is monitored even when no one is staying here,'' he told her softly.

''I guess they step it up when they have guests,'' she replied.

* * *

Steve was debriefed at the cabin while Rudy took a look at Jaime (at Steve's insistence). ''Mild shock,'' Rudy said once the OSI Security team had left and Steve had rejoined them. ''Nothing serious...already passing.''

Mark handed Jaime a cup of tea. ''I know it's an odd choice in this weather, but I thought it might be soothing,'' he told her.

Jaime nodded her thanks and took a sip. ''I was...gonna shoot him,'' she told all three men who surrounded her...but especially Steve.

''I felt your hand on the gun,'' he acknowledged. ''Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want to go home?''

''No! Like you said, we needed to reclaim our island! And now that I know they're watching out for us...even better. Why...do you?''

''Home...'' Steve mused, ''or twelve more days in the sunshine with the woman I love. Is there even a choice to be made?''

* * *

Dinner was low-key, to allow everyone some time to decompress and just relax. The doctors had been invited to stay - and had insisted on taking over the kitchen duties themselves while Steve and Jaime enjoyed the sunset. Mark whipped up an amazingly good crab-and-fruit salad and Rudy fixed a rice-and-beans side dish with spices that woke up everyone's senses. Mark was eying both Jaime and Steve (as unobtrusively as possible) while they ate and noted to himself that Steve seemed fine...his usual self. He had done (or helped to do) what needed to be done...all in a day's work (although not necessarily all in a honeymoon's work) for someone with his life experiences.

Jaime was a little quieter than normal but seemed to be enjoying the meal (she'd complimented both 'chefs') and wasn't 'dissociating' or withdrawing. Mark knew there was plenty to talk over, but it would wait until morning; this was not the time for an impromptu session. Besides, he knew from the way she was looking at Steve that once they were alone together and she was curled up in his arms, Jaime would be okay.

A couple of hours later, after the two doctors had obligingly cleaned the kitchen and headed back 'home', Jaime and Steve climbed in between the silk sheets and simply held each other. They gazed into each other's eyes, once again drawing strength from the sheer power of their love. Then, when they slowly and tenderly moved as close together as it was possible for two humans to be, they had the fleeting sensation of their actual _souls _reaching out, touching...and making everything alright again.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

''Fishing?'' Jaime laughed. ''You're going _fishing?_'' She and Steve had already enjoyed a sunrise swim to start the day before having a light breakfast. Now her husband and Rudy had donned a couple of hats she'd never seen before (and that made her laugh even harder) and were choosing from among the fishing supplies stocked in the closet.

''We _are _surrounded by water,'' Steve pointed out helpfully. ''Is there a better place to fish? We'll bring back some grouper and snapper for you; maybe even some conch..''

''We can get any or all of that from the supply boat...but have fun,'' she said, kissing him.

''It'll give you a chance to test out the tan-able plasticine on your new legs,'' Rudy told her. (And to talk alone with Mark, but that part was obvious and Rudy didn't mention it.)

Once the two potential fishermen in their jaunty caps had headed down the trail toward the other side of the island, Jaime spread a blanket in the grass just above where it met the sand and stretched out. Mark sat down beside her and watched as she seemed to be studying her own legs.

''So they're gonna tan now...'' Jaime mused. ''That leaves just one ghostly-white arm for Rudy to tend to later.'' Mark remained quiet, knowing there was more on Jaime's mind than whether or not her bionic 'skin' would tan. It took her a few minutes of staring out at the waves first. ''Yesterday,'' she began finally, ''my hand was on that gun; my finger was on that trigger...what does that make me?''

''Once again,'' Mark reminded her, ''that makes you a _survivor_.''

''No; that's not what I mean. I'm not dissolving into a million tiny pieces or dissociating...or even crying. I'm _alright _with this!''

''And I'm proud of you.''

Jaime shook her head. ''I'm not so sure it's something to be proud of! I was ready to _kill_ that guy! _What does that make me_?''

''It makes you someone who was well-trained, ready and able to defend your own life...and the life of someone you love.''

Jaime stared out at the waves again, still lost in her own thoughts. ''Sometimes I wonder...what life would be like if I'd never gone skydiving that day.''

''The day you had your accident?'' Mark replied.

''Yeah. I mean, I can't imagine my life without Steve...but we were together then too. We wouldn't have had to deal with all the grief I gave him when I first found out I was bionic.''

''That's true,'' Mark allowed.

''I wouldn't have _died_. And then we wouldn't have spent years - _years!_- finding our way back to each other!''

''Would you like my opinion?'' Mark offered. Jaime nodded. ''While you wouldn't have spent years 'finding your way back to each other', from what I've read in your files and from what the two of you have told me, I don't know that you'd still be together, either. You'd have been number one on the tennis circuit by the end of that season. Steve would've been busy all over the globe, saving the world from itself. And if you _had _somehow managed to stay together through even a few months of that, your completely different worlds would've collided. You wouldn't have understood Steve's needs and his world any more than he'd have understood yours.''

''What you're saying is that everything happens for a reason,'' Jaime surmised.

''Well, not everything. But in this case the saying fits pretty neatly, doesn't it? Besides, if things hadn't happened exactly the way they did, you wouldn't be sitting here digging your toes into a strip of white sand, with a doctor beside you who tries to analyze your every thought...while you wait for your husband and another doctor to return wearing two of the _goofiest_ hats known to Mankind.''

* * *

''I don't think you'd catch much from your side of the island,'' Rudy told Steve as they cast their lines far out into the waves. ''Water's deeper over here. I caught a couple nice-sized groupers yesterday morning.''

''I was wondering how you two were staying amused,'' Steve chuckled.

''Security swept the island again last night - after they removed and dismantled the radio tower. They said it looked like it'd been there for some time.''

''Did you get a chance to talk to Oscar?'' Steve wondered.

''I radioed and got a connection to Washington as soon as I knew the tower was down. The conference has been postponed another two weeks, to give them time to ramp up security measures even tighter.''

Steve could read between the lines. ''Two weeks? Just about when Jaime and I will be hitting Washington, tanned and well-rested.''

''Probably a coincidence,'' Rudy told him.

''Well, I'll worry about that in two weeks. Right now...I've got a fish!'' Steve reeled in his line...and one of the tiniest 'schooling fish' he'd ever seen wriggled on the other end. At the same time, Rudy was reeling in as well - and held up a red snapper that looked like it could feed all four of them.

''What can I tell you?'' Rudy chuckled. ''I've got my lucky hat on!''


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mark thought that Jaime seemed to have found quite a lot of the answers she'd been seeking, all by herself. The difference between 'this' Jaime and the Jaime of just a few weeks ago, when she'd been newly released from the hospital and was adjusting to yet another brand new set of legs was striking. She had a bounce in her step, a happy lilt in her voice...and a new confidence shone in her eyes. She could bring up whatever was troubling her now and _talk _about it, instead of shying away. Mark had only met her in passing before he'd been called to treat all of Cobra's victims, but he knew that hers was the most (happily) startling - and certainly well earned - transformation thus far. It was nothing short of a miracle that she'd pulled out of the traumas she'd faced in one piece - and to see Jaime ready to take on the world again made his heart proud.

''What do you think you'll do when you leave here?'' Mark asked.

''That depends on Oscar,'' Jaime told him.

''Oh?''

''Well, I'd like to go back to work. Which feels weird to say, since I don't really remember working for him, but...''

''Do you think you're ready?'' Mark questioned.

''I _know _I am. But right now, I'd rather feel the sun on my face, smell the fresh air - and think about 'real life' in eleven more days.''

''_That_ sounds like a plan,'' Mark agreed.

* * *

Back in Washington, Oscar was indulging in one of his least favorite things: a morning meeting with Jack Hansen. ''Oscar, this is the Conference's third postponement. I don't think the participants will feel so inclined to look toward peace if you can't even get them all together in the same room on the same continent! It needs to come off this time, and without any further problems or delays!''

''Look Jack, I heard all of this from the Secretary this morning - and I was able to allay his concerns. I certainly don't have to justify anything to you. But if you must know, I'll have my two best operatives working on this, two days before the conference is due to begin. They'll be monitoring arrivals and -''

''I hope you don't mean the two operatives I'm thinking you mean. Austin has barely recovered from his injuries -''

''He _has _recovered!'' Oscar stated emphatically.

''And Miss Sommers is...well...she's _unstable_.''

''I have absolutely no concerns about her 'stability' - although I do have my doubts about yours,'' Oscar seethed. ''Steve has been working with her closely, getting her ready for her first assignment. I've been working with her too. And her ear will prove invaluable in keeping peace among the Peacekeepers. Now if you'll show yourself out, I can get on with the rest of my day!''

* * *

''Aw, c'mon, Rudy - have a heart!'' Steve chuckled. Rudy's 'catch' pile had risen to the tune of 3 nice groupers, the big red snapper and a live conch that had washed up on shore, right at his feet. Steve's 'catch' pile had...one small grouper. ''Switch hats?''

Rudy laughed. ''Give you my lucky fishing hat? Not happening; sorry.''

''Can I ask you something?'' Steve began. ''Why was Jaime able to hear those transmissions - and the crackle from the radio tower - and yet she never heard the boats?''

''Jaime's ear takes in even the smallest sound from everywhere around her,'' Rudy explained. ''She has to filter most of it out in order to focus...and she's become very good at that. The transmissions caught her attention because they were so flagrantly 'out there' - and with the radio tower, we'd told her to listen for anything unusual. In both cases, boats on the water with a tourist destination just over the horizon...completely to be expected. So she automatically tuned them out as extraneous noise.''

''There's nothing wrong with her hearing, then?'' Steve asked.

''Not that I can see. And if you ever want a demonstration, just ask her to tell you _everything_ she's hearing - when you've got an hour to spare for the full list. _That's _how powerful her ear can be.''

''Good. Because I really don't think the timing for the new conference schedule is a coincidence. Oscar's going to be putting us to work; _both_of us.''

''I thought you weren't going to think about that for two more weeks?'' Rudy reminded him. ''But Jaime's ready. She's healthy, strong...''

''She's _more _than ready,'' Steve confirmed. ''She's been wanting this and working toward it for months. But...'' his voice trailed off.

''But it's hard for you to see your wife stepping back into a role that endangers her safety - and sometimes her life - just by virtue of who she works for and what she's doing,'' Rudy noted.

''Since when did you turn into Mark Conrad?'' Steve joked. ''But yeah...it's different now that we're married. I didn't think it would be, but it is. I wish I could protect her from that kind of life.''

''It's a life she chose for herself, Steve,'' Rudy said softly. ''Even before the two of you were married, you were helping her work toward that goal, encouraging her. It's very important that she knows you have faith in her ability to take what you've taught her and run with it. Because she can.''

Steve smiled. ''She _was _taught by the best.''

''Exactly. So how about taking these fish back to see what she wants to whip up with them? I'll even give you a break; we'll put 'em all on one string and say that 'we' caught them.''

''Hey, Doc! I did catch...that little grouper there,'' Steve laughed.

* * *

Dinner was a veritable luau with broiled fish, grilled fish, Caesar salad, glazed carrots and fresh rolls with butter, along with several bottles of wine. The talk between Steve, Jaime and the two doctors was as easy and comfortable as the soft island breeze. Just before the sun went down, the doctors headed for 'home' and Jaime and Steve sat leaning into each other on the sand strip, with the water curling over their legs...just savoring being together.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Steve had a better idea than almost anyone (other than Rudy, of course) of how Jaime's ear worked...but what Rudy had suggested intrigued him. So while they sat together watching the sun go down, he turned to his wife and asked casually ''What do you hear right now?''

''Huh? I hear _you_,'' Jaime said softly.

''No...I mean everything. When you don't stop to isolate the sound of my voice -''

''I don't have to think about isolating it,'' she said sensibly. ''I just _do _it.''

''Can you _undo_it? Just for fun...and because I'm curious how many things are out there that I'm not hearing,'' Steve requested.

Jaime looked at him quizzically. ''Do you know how long it took me to learn to filter...to isolate sounds? But for you...okay. Well first, you should've eaten more dinner.''

''Why?''

''Your stomach's rumbling. I can hear your heart too...and your breath...and your -''

''We can move on from my bodily functions, Sweetheart,'' Steve chuckled.

Jaime giggled and continued on her own personal auditory free-association. ''There are at least 3 or 4 kinds of birds on this island. And...'' Jaime wrinkled her nose, ''at least one snake. Thanks so much for making me hear _that_. Mark and Rudy are fishing. They're gonna play checkers afterward. There's a mosquito buzzing somewhere behind you. Mostly I hear a lot of boats - and a lot of men on the boats. We'll skip over their conversations; I don't think they meant for anyone female to hear them. Oh, and a few have their motors going...''

This was a little disturbing to Steve, as he knew they should've all been sitting still in the water, with their eyes on the island and their own sonar equipment...but he let her keep going.

''All sorts of fish splashing around out there. Want me to try and count 'em?'' Jaime offered.

''I'll take your word for it. Anything else?''

Jaime frowned, just slightly, concentrating on a sound she couldn't quite place. ''There's something..._big _in the water, out there a bit, but closer than the boats.''

''Dolphin-big,'' Steve wondered, ''or shark-big?''

Jaime shook her head. ''Bigger than that. It's displacing a LOT of water...and it has an engine.''

''A _sub_? Sweetheart, that's impossible. Maybe your ear is picking up the sounds of one further out at sea, and the water is distorting the sound...?''

''I'm telling you what I hear, Steve; make what you want out of it. But we really should find a snack for your poor stomach.''

''I'm not _that _hungry,'' he protested. He wanted to ask her more about this 'sub' but thought better of it...for now. ''On the other hand, it wouldn't hurt to have a little something - for extra energy, you know.''

Jaime leaned over and kissed him. ''I'd say you have plenty of energy.''

While she was in the kitchen slicing a few mangoes and cracking open some crab, Steve stepped off into the bedroom and made sure his gun was fully loaded and ready to use...just in case.

* * *

Oscar was daring to believe it might actually be an early night for once (as in, before midnight) when his direct line to Los Angeles lit up. ''Almost missed me, Russ,'' he greeted. ''What can I do for you?''

''Oscar, Intel from the Bahamas reports that water traffic off of Paradise Island has increased dramatically in the last 24 hours. Our men just intercepted two boats that were attempting to either sneak or break through the line - headed straight for Steve and Jaime. They were surrounded and apprehended without gunfire or further incident, and our island occupants are unaware that anything untoward has occurred. Would you like them to be notified?''

''Beef up security surrounding the island overnight and let them know first thing in the morning. If we have to evacuate them, we will.''

* * *

Steve couldn't stop thinking about the boat motors Jaime had heard - or the large underwater object that could've only been a sub. Before they turned in for the night, while Jaime was treating herself to a bubble bath in the claw-footed bathtub, he took the datacom and headed out to the sand strip. He called for Rudy quietly, then described what had happened.

''Yes,'' Rudy agreed with him, ''it's very possible that the sounds of a sub further out at sea could've been carried in by the waves. It's also possible there's one nearby. You need to get on the emergency radio _tonight _and get a patch-through to Washington, just to be on the safe side.''

''I'm going right now,'' Steve promised. He headed back inside and sat down at the radio...but no matter which way he turned the dials or how he attempted to hone in the frequency, all he got was static. Quickly (before Jaime was out of the tub), he keyed up the datacom again. ''Rudy, does your radio work? I'm getting nothing here.''

The answer came back quickly...and was not good news. ''Just static, Steve. We'll have to try again later. Either we're being jammed somehow...or there's a heck of a storm moving in.''


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jaime emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel...and when Steve didn't even look up from where he was busily fiddling with the emergency radio, she shivered intuitively in the island heat. ''Should I...get dressed?'' she asked. (_Please tell me no_, she thought to herself.)

''Yeah; maybe you'd better,'' Steve told her, still not looking up from his work.

''Steve...?''

''Just some interference on the radio,'' he explained in a calm voice. ''I was going to let Oscar know you thought you heard a sub and -''

''I _did _hear a sub.''

Steve nodded. ''And I can't get through to Washington - or anywhere else. Possibly just a weather squall blocking our signal.''

''But you don't think so.'' (It wasn't a question; Jaime knew her husband.)

''Rudy said the same thing - that it could be a storm moving in - but I think we may be getting jammed.''

''By the sub?'' Jaime asked.

''Or by the people responsible for the sub. Sweetheart, do me a favor. After you get dressed, get on the datacom and find out if Rudy's having any better luck over there...?''

Jaime nodded and hurried back to the bedroom. Steve didn't need Jaime's ear to be able to hear that the wind was starting to pick up outside - but it didn't seem to be enough to jam the equipment. Jaime came back out of the bedroom dressed...and with a puzzled look on her face that bordered on fear. ''Steve...?'' she said very quietly. ''How do we get off of this island, if we need to in a hurry?''

''We would normally radio the boats and they'd send someone to get us. But I could also re-tune the datacom for an outside frequency and reach them that way.''

''Maybe we should swim for it,'' she told him, ''because this thing's dead too.''

Steve frowned and took the datacom from Jaime's outstretched (and slightly trembling) hand. ''That's impossible. A storm shouldn't interfere with..._damn it!_.'' He was unable to raise even Rudy on the other side of the island.

Rudy had apparently discovered the same thing, a few minutes before Jaime and Steve did. The knock on the door made them both stiffen for a moment, until Rudy called out ''It's us!'' Jaime hurried to open the door...and the wind had picked up so strongly that it nearly took the door out of her hand. Before she closed it again, Jaime heard something that was definitely _not_the wind. She listened intently for a few moments...then quickly shut the door. ''If we're gonna swim for help, now would be a really good time,'' she told Steve (with a growing quaver to her voice). ''We...we're not alone.''

''What'd you hear?'' Rudy asked.

''Zippers. At least a couple of 'em. Sounded like rubber suits...wet suits...'' Jaime said shakily. ''I say we swim for it and bring back help _now_.''

''Looks like that sub was closer than we thought,'' Rudy noted. ''Which means you're not going in that water. They've infiltrated the security line. Who knows what else is out there.''

''Well we can't wait here like sitting ducks until they come politely knocking to tell us what they want!'' Jaime insisted. ''And we have no way to call for help!''

Steve went to the closet and pulled out a set of flares. ''We have these. The boats'll see 'em and head our way fast.'' He looked up as rain began to pound at the roof in sheets.

''So we're back to swimming for it,'' Jaime said softly. As if to punctuate their sense of isolation, the first bolt of lightning lit up the sky out over the water. ''Or...not,'' she backpedaled.

Almost on autopilot (thanks to their OSI training), Rudy and Mark pulled guns from their waistbands that Jaime never even realized they carried, holding them pointed toward the floor. Steve bolted to the bedroom for his own weapon.

Jaime flinched. ''So I'm the only one who didn't think to bring a gun to an island 'paradise','' she whispered. ''Well...at least I can help move things up against the door, to buy us some time!'' Except...with almost every stick of furniture fashioned from bamboo, there wasn't much of anything that would 'batten down the hatches' from the storm - much less from anyone intending to do them harm.

''Yours is in the bottom of my suitcase, if you want it,'' Steve told her quietly.

Jaime was barely able to take the first step toward the bedroom when the front door flew open - and _not _from the wind. Several pairs of rough hands grabbed her and pulled her out onto the steps, holding her in front of the open door as a human shield. ''Weapons on the floor, gentlemen,'' one of the would-be intruders snarled. ''And I'd strongly advise you to do it now!''


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jaime had only heard two wet suits being unzipped, so she drew her arm forward and then threw her elbow back into one of her captor's stomachs. She turned around intending to swing the now-stunned man into his partner...and faced an extra two gunman. One leveled his gun at her, his intentions very clear - and Steve rushed forward, grabbed Jaime by the arm and threw her to the ground, out of harm's way...just as the gun went off. The momentum of the bullet sent Steve sprawling to the floor next to Jaime. His gun skittered across the floor, out of reach.

''Stay down - _both_ of you!'' one of the men ordered as all four stepped into the cabin and closed the door. He looked threateningly at Mark and Rudy. ''Either of you care to be a hero? _Drop your weapons. Now._''

Jaime leaned over Steve with tears in her eyes. His own eyes were closed and there was a small pool of blood gathering beneath his right shoulder. One of the gunmen grabbed her by the shoulders to force her away - and she kicked at his shins, not thinking about the gun in his hand as much as she was thinking about helping Steve. ''_That_ was stupid!'' her assailant roared, wrenching Jaime up by her arm and throwing her into a chair. ''Move again and I'll shoot you in the head - right _after_ I blow _him _away!'' He waved his weapon at Mark and Rudy. ''The two of you, sit over there. We're all going to have a nice little talk.''

''Let one of us take care of him,'' Rudy asked, eying Steve.

''You don't get to make requests. _Sit down!_ Good. Now...who _are _you people?'' the main gunman demanded.

''We're here on our honeymoon,'' Jaime offered, her eyes never leaving Steve.

''Four on a honeymoon? Kinky. Sorry, Babycakes...wrong answer. You tried to disrupt our operation - you _did _disrupt it, but not for long. So who are you? CIA? OSI? I guess it doesn't matter...for now.''

''She's telling you the truth,'' Mark said evenly. ''They're on their honeymoon and we're here to fish; that's all.''

''Ri-i-ight. That's why there's a circle of boats out there watching this island - and that's why these two just happened to stumble on our radio tower. And the minute we cut off your lines of communication, here you are, all in one cabin. So don't lie to us, because - trust me - you _don't _wanna see what I might do to this pretty little blonde if you make me angry.''

''What do you want?'' Mark asked.

''_Information_ - and you have it. We want the newly revised date - and place - of a certain conference that we just _know _you're familiar with.''

''Don't...tell them...anything...'' Steve gasped from the floor, his eyes still closed. (He knew that the conference's new date would only be good to these people if they could use the knowledge unimpaired. They'd have to kill everyone in the room in order to make the information useful.)

''I can wait longer than you can, by the looks of it,'' the gunman told Steve. Outside, the storm was now directly overhead and _raging_. The next bolt of lightning shook the cabin - and the lights flickered...and went out. ''Where's the generator?'' the leader demanded. No one spoke. ''I _said_ where's the damned generator?'' He grabbed Jaime's hair, twisted it around his free hand and pulled hard, forcing her to cry out. ''Do _not _make me hurt her!'' he threatened.

''Out...back...'' Steve told him from the floor.

''Get up, Babycakes,'' he demanded, yanking Jaime to her feet. ''Get out there and throw the switch.''

''Let me go out there instead,'' Mark requested, not wanting Jaime exposed to the lightning for even a few minutes. ''I can find the switch faster.''

''You'll stay right where you are.'' With his hand still entwined in Jaime's hair, he pulled her toward the front door, opened it and threw her outside into the storm.

* * *

It took Russ less than a second to dial Washington after he received the new report from Intel in the Bahamas. _Gunfire reported from the island. Boats fired upon when headed in that direction. We need back-up __**now**__!_There was no answer at OSI-Washington, except from the receptionist. He tried Oscar at home and left an urgent message on his machine. For the moment, it was strictly up to Russ. He found he was unable to establish contact with either cabin via radio. With no other options left, he picked up the phone and dialed.

''I need the Chief Officer for Interpol-Bahamas,'' he directed.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jaime formulated at least half a dozen plans in the time it took her to round the cabin and find the generator. She could stay there, as though she couldn't find the switch and then club them with a tree branch when they came looking for her. But if more than one of them came at once, a tree branch was no match for a gun. If only the trees weren't being soaked by what felt like a monsoon, she'd have punched a hole in the generator and used the live wires to start a fire, carrying it further into the trees and setting one alight to alert the boats that they needed _help_. Could she swim for it - did she dare try? Jaime was afraid to think of what might happen to Steve, Mark and Rudy if their captors realized she was gone...but what would happen to all of them if she went back into the cabin?

Lightning flashed to the ground just inches away from her, forcing her to jump out of the way. Would it hit her in the water? Could she maybe outswim it? She wondered if she should leave the cabin in darkness, diverting at least some of the gunmen's attention away from their hostages and maybe giving Steve and the others a fighting chance...but she couldn't be sure just how badly Steve was injured - and without his help, the doctors stood virtually _no _chance of fighting their way out on their own. No doubt they were watching out the front windows for her...but the only window in the back of the cabin was in the kitchen and she was on the other end of the cabin's rear. Without pausing any further to try and talk herself out of it, Jaime flipped the generator's switch and took off running at top speed through the woods to the cabin on the other side where she took a deep breath...and dove into the water.

Her legs propelled her at bionic speed, kicking a huge wake through the whitecaps that threatened to engulf her as she headed into deeper water. The rain was coming down in solid sheets, fighting against her and trying to drive her back as she forced her way through the raging tides to where (she hoped) she'd find the circle of boats...and safety. She lifted her head to try and listen for the sounds of those she prayed would save them but rain pelted her face and caused her to sputter and choke when she gasped for a deeper breath of air. Jaime put her face back in the water and settled into the rhythm of a bionic-strength crawl stroke, letting her new legs do most of the work while her right arm helped pull her along. She took just short gasps of air each time her head turned to the side, careful to spit out the water she'd inhaled before putting her head down once again.

The storm seemed to be following her, with each lightning bolt aiming for the spot where she'd just been and the thunder roaring out a threat that the next one wouldn't miss.

* * *

Oscar had been on another line at home when he saw the answering machine light blinking at him. He dialed OSI-Los Angeles almost on autopilot, scarcely able to stand the thought of what might be happening to his friends on that island. Russ relayed that he'd spoken to the Chief of Interpol-Bahamas himself and they were sending their own boats into the water 'armed like tanks and a helluva lot faster'. Oscar breathed a small sigh of relief and said a silent prayer that Interpol could reach the island in time.

* * *

Jaime was beginning to struggle. The rain felt like thousands of tiny bullets stinging her skin and the lightning made her nearly leap from the water as it seemed to loom closer with every strike. She was inhaling rain when she lifted her head and swallowing water in her exhaustion when she put her head back down. _Is this what it feels like, just before you drown? _she wondered.

She saw Steve's face in her mind's eye, beaming at her with such pure love in his eyes...then she pictured him on the floor of the cabin with blood pooling beneath him. She _had _to keep going! Were the waves getting stronger...or were her legs beginning to betray her? They were still so very new, with no more than a month's adjustment time. Normally that was more than enough but Jaime could feel herself starting to sink...

She raised her head one last time - and heard the sound of powerful engines cutting through the water. They were coming straight toward her! What if they didn't see her, down among the whitecaps? With everything she had left, she threw her head back and called to them...then laid out flat on her back, floating, her strength completely depleted.

Within seconds, a beacon shone down into the water and several pairs of strong hands lifted her into the boat. She couldn't hear their voices because every last bit of adrenaline had left her and Jaime was out cold. The men laid her out on some cushions and one of them nodded. ''Fits the description the OSI sent out. Now let's go get the others.''


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Back at the cabin, when the lights came on the 'leader' of the gunmen moved toward the door to pull Jaime inside...but she didn't come back. As the minutes passed, he began to pace - growing angrier with each step. ''Get out there and _find her_!'' he directed two of his men. ''And when you do...shoot her.''

Steve's barely-conscious mind registered the words 'shoot her' - and just as the door opened, the thunder roared again. Mark was watching as Steve began to stir restlessly. There was lemon (and ice, of course) in the kitchen but no way to get them. ''No...'' Steve mumbled restlessly. Then louder: ''_**NO**__! Not this time_!'' Blood loss be damned (he couldn't feel much of anything), Steve dove toward the gunman - who fired a single shot that went wild in the momentary struggle, hitting Mark in the ankle.

Mark flinched but barely moved in his seat, his eyes still on Steve. Rudy tried to get up to help yet another injured friend...and was halted as the gun swung threateningly in his direction. The older doctor raised his chin defiantly and stared the gunman directly in the eyes. ''Shoot me if you have to - but both of my friends are bleeding and I _will _help them!''

''Don't move, if you'd like to keep breathing!'' the leader snarled.

Steve no longer saw either of the gunmen; his mind's eye showed him Grant Kingsley, reaching for Jaime with his evil intentions written clearly in the sneer across his face. ''I won't let you hurt her anymore!'' Steve seethed. The bleeding from his shoulder began afresh as he swung his right arm out from his vantage point on the floor, catching the leader's ankles with a sickening _crack_. As his 'boss' went down, the man by the door raised his own gun - and was hit in the face by a sofa pillow (thrown by Mark) and then felled by a well-aimed kick at his shin from Steve. Rudy moved quickly to grab both weapons and Mark hobbled into the kitchen for ice, lemon...and utility cord. He tossed the cord to Rudy who secured both assailants while Mark tended to Steve, easing him out of what had proven to be a life-saving flashback.

''Jaime...'' Steve murmured as he slowly returned to his senses.

''We'll find her,'' Mark promised (wondering how, exactly, they were going to do that).

''Can you help me drag these goons into the bedroom?'' Rudy asked. ''Then I want a look at that ankle.''

''I'm okay for now,'' Mark told him, nonetheless nearly falling as he first tried to put weight on his injury. Together, he and Rudy somehow pulled the trussed-up gunmen into the bedroom, retrieved Jaime's gun from Steve's suitcase and closed the door. Then as Mark sank down on the floor to check on Steve, Rudy made his own trip into the kitchen and returned with a large bag of ice wrapped in a towel which he laid across the younger doctor's ankle.

''That should slow the bleeding and at least numb it a bit; it's the best I can do for now,'' Rudy told him.

''Where's...Jaime?'' Steve asked again. ''Have to...find her...''

''You have to lie down and let us take care of you,'' Mark told him gently. Rudy placed a cushion under Steve's head and wished he could grow at least two more sets of hands. He wondered not-so-idly where the other two gunmen were...and if they'd found Jaime. So far, there had been no sign, one way or the other.

As if in direct answer to the question in Rudy's head (one that was shared by his two injured friends), a single gunshot sounded from somewhere out in the trees. ''_Jaime!_'' Steve exclaimed mournfully, sitting up to try for the door until blood loss forced him back down and into (merciful) unconsciousness.

Mark's eyes had opened wider to the sound...and Rudy hung his head in dismay. ''Dear God...they got her,'' he whispered. Then several more shots sounded in rapid succession and Rudy was grateful Steve was unable to hear them. When the cabin door burst open again, he fully expected to be shot himself.

Except...these men (while bearing their own guns) flashed badges instead of bullets. ''Interpol!'' the first one through the door announced. _Finally _the Cavalry had arrived! As the only one uninjured, Rudy told the agents that they could find the remaining assailants in the bedroom...then asked the only question that mattered for the moment.

''There was a young woman somewhere out there on the island. Did you...find her?'' (He prayed the Agents had found her before the gunmen had!)

''We found her,'' one of the Officers affirmed. ''But she wasn't on the island; she was in the water, nearly drowned.''


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Rudy finally got a chance to examine Steve's shoulder wound when the medics aboard the transport plane helped to roll him on his side. It was far more than a mere flesh wound but Rudy could already tell that the primary areas of his concern (for Steve) would be the amount of blood loss and removal of the bullet from its lodging place in the bionic components where Steve's right arm met his shoulder. (The latter concern would have to wait until they'd returned to the States, once all three patients had stabilized sufficiently to allow the journey.)

Mark's injury, although not life-threatening, would require the immediate attention of an orthopedic surgeon - and one of the best available had been summoned and would be waiting for their arrival at Andros Island Naval Air Station.

Jaime was lying quietly on a padded stretcher, her face pale and her eyes closed. When Rudy finally made his way over to her, she moaned softly as he began checking her for injuries. ''Rudy...?'' she asked (eyes still closed).

''It's me, Honey,'' he confirmed. ''You probably shouldn't talk right now.'' Her lungs sounded terribly congested; he guessed from what Interpol had told him that she'd inhaled inordinate amounts of water.

''My legs...'' was all she managed before drifting off again.

They were less than halfway into their 45-mile flight and while the plane was by nature very fast, Rudy wished it would be just a little bit faster. There was so little he could do for any of them until they landed...except make sure they were comfortable.

''How's she doing?'' Mark asked.

''I'm not sure,'' Rudy admitted, fitting the mask back over Jaime's face and turning the oxygen to full force. ''She needs a bronchial dilator..._soon_. Then she should hopefully be alright.'' He was watching her closely for any further signs of 'dry drowning', meaning her larynx had stayed closed following a spasm after she'd taken in water. It would require immediate treatment that he wasn't certain he could adequately provide aboard a transport plane. The condition (if it flared up) could be easily treated with medication but without it, the syndrome was often fatal - and Jaime was already exhibiting several of the danger signs...

* * *

The Base hospital was small - almost more of an infirmary, really - but at least they had the necessary medicine for Jaime and a rudimentary operating room where the surgeon could repair Mark's ankle. Steve received a transfusion...and Rudy finally began to breathe easier now that all of his patients were out of danger and receiving the needed care. Jaime remained unconscious as her lungs began to clear and Rudy could find no sign that she'd been struck by lightning, so he'd have to wait until she woke up to find out what she'd meant by _'My legs'_.

He was still waiting for that answer when, the next day, Russ sent a private plane to return the four 'vacationers' to the States. Oscar had phoned the Base hospital several times for updates while they were there, but being tied up with arrangements for the Peacekeepers (which was still to go on as scheduled), he'd left all other business in Russ's capable hands. Rudy's best surgical team was flown East (from Los Angeles, where they'd been ensconced for the last several months) to assemble at that city's branch of National Medical. Everything (and everyone) was ready.

Finally, midway through their flight up the East Coast, Jaime opened her eyes. She smiled weakly at Rudy...then (in answer to his gentle questioning) told him how her legs had threatened to weigh her down while she'd fought her way through the waves.

''Probably exhaustion, Honey,'' he told her. ''You did something truly amazing - with legs that weren't quite up to the challenge yet.''

''_Heroic_,'' Steve added, gazing into Jaime's eyes with love that penetrated straight to her soul. When he'd heard what she'd done, Steve had been floored. Interpol had obviously already been on their way, but she hadn't known that - and it didn't diminish in the least the courage it had taken for her to dive into that water.

Jaime shot him a lopsided grin. ''Well, you can't vacation in the Bahamas without at least one good, long swim!''


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Steve paced the floor of Oscar's office with his arm and shoulder in a sling. ''Oscar, from the sound of it, you were planning to have us work this conference - and you _need _us there even more now!''

Oscar shook his head. As much as he wished it were different, the facts were the facts. ''What was one of the first things we taught Jaime?'' he reminded Steve. ''_Blend in_- and it would be hard to do that with a sling on your arm.''

''So I'll take it off.''

''Rudy'd have my head - _and _yours!''

''Well, I don't want Jaime going in there without me; not after everything she's been through,'' Steve insisted.

''We either have faith in her or we don't, Pal.''

''It's not Jaime's ability that I'm worried about. It's the fact that they've already tried to kill us once in the name of stopping this conference! This would put her directly in the line of fire. If she slips up, even for a second...''

''She won't,'' Oscar explained.

Steve thought for a moment. ''What if we gave her a 'handler'? Someone upstairs at the hotel who heard everything she heard and could give suggestions if she needs them? I'm sure Rudy could wire her ear for that. And I know the perfect person for the job...''

''Remind me never to ask for another vacation, ever again,'' Jaime cracked.

Mark looked at Steve...and shrugged. It might seem to an outsider that she was taking her near-drowning lightly but after everything else she'd experienced, near death in the water off of Paradise Island probably _did_ seem like a vacation swim. After three days, Jaime'd been released from the hospital - they all had - and she and Steve had been moved into their OSI-furnished apartment, ostensibly so Rudy could keep an eye on them both...but it didn't take Jaime long to figure out the _real _reason.

''So anyway, I've had enough 'vacation','' she said over her shoulder as she placed her things in the dresser drawers. ''And enough training. Are we working this conference or not?''

''You...know about that?'' Steve asked.

''Aside from the fact that Rudy told us about it on the island? Yeah; the timing's just too convenient for us to be _here _instead of in Los Angeles. Except...will your arm be okay in time?''

''Probably not,'' Steve admitted. ''How do you feel about a little minor surgery?''

''Um...what?''

Steve outlined the plan he and Oscar had come up with and what Rudy would need to do with her ear. Jaime nodded, taking it all in quietly...but eagerly. ''When do we start?'' she asked.

''Jaime...are you sure you feel up to this?'' Mark said softly. They'd all assumed that her 'first' mission would be an easy one - and with Steve by her side. The upcoming conference was not only _huge _in terms of world importance; the gunmen on the island (who had told their interrogators exactly nothing) had ratcheted up the danger level unimaginably. Wherever they were from, they would likely have their own cohorts at that hotel.

''Rudy says my legs are fine.''

''That's _not _what I asked you. Suppose your cover gets blown and you're looking down the barrel of a gun,'' Mark said (as gently as possible).

''Well aren't you a bundle of positivity,'' Jaime joked. ''But...been there, done that. And I handled it.''

She'd 'handled it' on the island with her husband by her side. But Steve had to wonder what would happen if she were to face something similar alone. Would she be able to deal with it calmly...or would Jaime freeze with fear, forcing him to listen upstairs in a hotel room while his wife was executed?

* * *

''All set, Honey,'' Rudy said, giving Jaime a reassuring smile. The conference was still a week away (and her assignment at the hotel due to start 2 days before that), but they'd decided to 're-wire' her ear a little early, to give Steve some time to work with her on following directions given in such a unique fashion. She'd be hearing his voice in her head (almost as if it were her own thoughts), allowing him to communicate with her (and hear her, as well) without a wire and without the knowledge of someone who might be standing right next to her.

The hotel room had been reserved and the equipment set up. There would be five days for practice sessions before what could be one of Jaime's most important assignments to date. She'd work extensively with Mark to make sure there were no lingering issues that might hinder her - and with Rudy to ensure that her strength had fully returned. But...was she _really _ready?

They'd find out in five more days.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_And whose bizarre sense of humor is __**this**__? _Jaime wondered idly, looking up at the hotel awning that read 'Paradise'. They'd tested her ear's new (temporary) ability first in an open field and then in the hospital. This would be her first trial run in the actual hotel. There was so much more to filter out here!

''Can you hear me okay?'' Steve asked (from his room on the third floor). ''Jaime...?''

The answer took a little longer than he'd hoped for. ''Yup; I hear you. Didn't take into account how hard it is to 'blend in' when answering you makes it look like I'm talking to myself...''

''Just do whatever you're doing right now,'' he suggested.

''I can only stand in the corner and admire the fine workmanship of the crown molding for so long before it just looks odd.''

''Gotcha, Sweetheart,'' Steve chuckled. ''Just walk around the lobby and then maybe outside so we can see how far your range is and where we lose clarity.'' He listened quietly while Jaime roamed past the check-in area and into the lounge. He had to marvel at her ability to filter out extraneous sounds, as the device in her ear seemed to pick up _everything_. ''Is this what things sound like to her, all the time?'' he asked Rudy (with his mic 'off').

''At first it did,'' Rudy acknowledged, knowing exactly what Steve was talking about even though he was currently listening on headphones. Mark shot them both a questioning look and Rudy motioned for Steve to take off the headphones. The speaker they could all listen to at once was a bit thinner sounding but the effect was the same – overwhelming. ''Unfortunately,'' he explained, ''there's no way to isolate exactly what she's listening to...but we should still get a general idea.''

Car horns and general street noises told them Jaime had stepped outside. It was harder for them to pick out any single sound now - although they could clearly hear Jaime's voice (and the response) when she asked a passerby for directions. Rudy shook his head with concern; the tests in the field and the hospital had been much clearer. He had only 48 hours to figure out a way - if there _was _one - to filter out at least some of the extra background noise. Was it bothering Jaime too...or was the trouble only on their end?

They listened as she walked into what had to be the coffee shop next door, still hearing her voice clearly as she ordered a donut and coffee to go. ''Beautiful day. I'm gonna eat this in the park,'' she told the cashier (although it was more for the benefit of Steve and the others, for the sake of the test). The park was a block away from the hotel and on the opposite side of the street. Would the signal hold?

Things seemed to grow a little clearer as Jaime stepped away from the busy street and into the park. At least they could hear individual sounds again (albeit far too many of them at once), rather than just a huge cacophonous mess. ''Can you still hear me, Sweetheart?'' Steve asked into the microphone. There was no immediate answer...but no signs that Jaime was in distress either. It was unlikely that her actual work at the conference would take her this far from the hotel but Rudy still hoped some sort of adjustment could be made to increase the range...just in case.

They heard the sound of squealing children - and then a sound that made their hearts skip a beat (or three). _POP!_The exhalation of relief when they realized it was only a balloon filled the hotel room.

''Test...'' Jaime said in what was once again becoming a more static-filled transmission with each passing minute.

''I hear you,'' Steve confirmed. ''Can you hear me?''

''Test...'' she repeated. Unsure if it was a momentary interruption or a true problem, Jaime sat down on a bench to eat her donut.

''I'll go get her,'' Steve offered.

Rudy nodded. ''Bring her up here; I think I've figured out how to 'tweak' her ear. It should be fairly simple. We won't even need to take her to the lab.''

* * *

The adjustment _was _as simple as Rudy had hoped - and soon Jaime was on her way back outside for another test. Background noises were still audible but not nearly as much of an issue now that Rudy had tuned the device more toward the frequency of human speech. Now the only problem was which of dozens of conversations to listen to. They would have to trust Jaime to guide them on that...until the speaker picked up something that Jaime had either tuned out, ignored or simply didn't hear.

''_That's __**her**_...''

* * *

''There were dozens of women out there,'' Jaime protested when they once again summoned her back to the hotel room. ''You don't know that they meant me; they probably didn't!''

''I'd rather err on the side of caution,'' Steve told her quietly, ''than listen to you get shot.''

''Caution? Try _paranoia_! You should've just told me to listen more closely to whoever that was, instead of pulling me at the first sign of what you _thought _was trouble!''

''Sweetheart, you didn't even hear him...did you?'' Steve asked.

''You didn't give me the chance to hear anything! How am I supposed to pick up on potential problems and put a stop to them - which by the way is the whole reason I'm here - if you don't even give me the chance?''

''She's right, Pal,'' Oscar put in. Rudy had summoned him from the planning meeting he'd been attending on the second floor when Steve had decided to 'pull' Jaime. ''We're sending her in to do a job. We need to let her _do _it.''

''Besides, if they _are _after me then I still have time to smoke them out. You jumped the gun, Steve,'' Jaime told him.

''And that was the worst possible choice of words,'' he argued back.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

They were still squabbling when they returned to their apartment that night. ''You spent the three weeks before we went to the island telling me how ready I was to work,'' Jaime began. ''Now suddenly because you can't be with me, I'm incapable? Which is it?'' Her words were sharp but her voice was filled with hurt.

''It might not be _you_. It might be something wrong with the way Rudy re-wired your ear...but you didn't hear what I heard today and -''

''And maybe that was because it didn't pertain to me! I've got a little more practice 'filtering' than you do!''

''Maybe _too _much. You should've picked up on that, Sweetheart...'' Steve insisted.

''Then maybe _you _should've left me down there long enough to actually pick up a threatening conversation...IF there really was one. Even Oscar said you overreacted.''

''That wasn't what he said.''

''Maybe not _exactly_ - but he said you need to let me do my job. A job that _you _trained me for! So stop being such an over-protective, macho -''

The phone rang at precisely the right moment. ''Hello!'' Steve snapped, more harshly than he'd intended.

''It's me,'' Mark said on the other end. ''Just checking in, to see how things are going...but maybe I don't have to ask, after all.''

''Impeccable timing as always, Doc,'' Steve told him. ''I'm gonna put you on speaker so you can tell my wife to listen to the voice of experience here.''

''You really want my opinion that badly?'' Mark questioned, his voice now carrying into the room. ''Alright. I want you _both_ to consider something. If you're fighting, you're proving you can't be an objective 'handler', Steve - and Jaime, you can't follow his direction. Would you rather have Oscar appoint a different 'handler' - someone you aren't so familiar and comfortable with? Because I happen to know that he will if he has to. And one other thing to think about. How focused will either one of you be on the job if you can't resolve these differences? Can you give 100 percent? Because if you can't, you may be signing the death warrants of everyone at that conference...and your own.''

* * *

By the next morning, Steve and Jaime had reached an uneasy but peaceable truce. Mark's words had hit home for both of them. Steve would try to turn his worry into a more productive and active listening role - and Jaime would use her defiance (and sheer stubbornness) as a weapon against potential enemies instead of turning on the one who cared the most. Mark had known more than he'd let on when he'd called them, because Oscar was waiting in the hotel room. In light of what might (or might not) have been a threat the previous day, the trial runs were over; Jaime was officially activated and on the job. After a few more minor adjustments on her ear, Rudy pronounced her ready to go and Jaime and Steve shared one more embrace before he donned the headphones and mic and she headed out the door.

The speaker had also been rewired so the room could hear exactly what Steve was hearing without his having to remove the headphones. They listened as Jaime stepped into the stairwell and headed down, stopping at each floor and picking up strings of conversations that - while otherwise interesting - held no importance. Then she stepped out into the lobby.

''_There she is_!'' someone whispered...coming through clear as a bell on the headphones and the speaker. ''I'm telling you, that's _her_!'' To the horror of the men listening in the hotel room, Jaime seemed to be headed _toward _the voice. Steve was ready to demand that Rudy remove his sling so he could head down and rescue her, when...

''I saw you play at Wimbledon; can I have your autograph?''

Jaime's instincts had proven spot-on. There was no threat. At least, not this time.

* * *

As the morning went on and the lobby filled with people, it became harder for Steve and the others to filter out anything specific. They'd have to rely on Jaime, who was reading a newspaper and sipping coffee in a lobby chair, to be their ears for now. The little old man who appeared to be in his 70s didn't ring any alarm bells for her when he sat in the next chair, hunched over and seemingly half-asleep...until the gun snaked under the pages of her newspaper (visible to no one in the lobby except Jaime that way).

''Come with me very quietly,'' he instructed. ''Not one word. Not one sound...''

Jaime would have kept up a nervous patter, to try and let Steve know where she was being taken (as they'd outlined in their 'worst case scenario' plan) but for as unsteady as the old man had looked when he'd sat down, his gun arm didn't waver and his eyes were deadly serious. Wordlessly, with his arm snaked around her waist like a benevolent grandfather (rather than a man who was threatening her life), he led her through the front doors...and out of the Paradise Hotel.

''Back-up to the front of the hotel _NOW_!'' Oscar called into his datacom. ''You'll be of the most help to her here, Pal,'' he told Steve. Steve knew Oscar was right; he'd never reach the front of the hotel in time...and he fought to keep a level head for his wife's sake, as he stayed alert for any sort of an audible clue from Jaime or her captors. If they were lucky, Jaime would soon be able to bring down whatever factions were trying to stop this conference from taking place. They would have to trust that she'd know what to do; the alternative was simply unthinkable.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Steve was careful to keep his voice on the microphone steady, to not let Jaime know how worried (and yes - afraid) he was. ''Try and keep them in front of the hotel,'' he instructed. ''There's back-up on the way.''

But it was too late. Steve (and the others, listening through the speaker) heard the order ''Get in'' - and something that sounded like a shove, then the slamming of a car door. It was a different voice than they'd heard beside Jaime in the lobby; there was clearly a second man (or more) involved.

Steve didn't want to say too much and distract Jaime's concentration, so he kept his instructions short and to the point. ''I know you can't talk...but try to give us some kind of sign to let us know where they're taking you.'' _Before you go out of range..._he concluded to himself.

In the backseat of the car, Jaime found herself sandwiched between _two_ gunmen and with both guns pressing painfully into her ribs, she didn't dare move, much less make any sort of sound. The car pulled away from the curb and the elderly man chuckled. ''I guess we know the when and where now, since they've got you patrolling the lobby. So...who are you? And why did your agency send a _woman_?''

''I don't know what you're talking about,'' Jaime answered. ''What 'agency'?'' (To Steve, her voice sounded clear and unafraid; this was good news.)

''Don't be stupid. We know you're 'working' this conference. If Interpol hadn't saved you, you'd have been in _our _boat instead.''

Her cover was clearly blown. Steve knew it...and Jaime knew it too. She was still trying to figure out what these men wanted, since they already knew the time and place where the Peacekeepers would meet. She didn't have to wait long to find out. The car was further from the hotel every second...but Steve was still able to hear their intentions clearly enough to chill him to his core.

''Whoever sent you, you must be pretty important yourself. I'd imagine you have all sorts of secrets in that pretty head. And you _will_ share them with us...one way or another. You'll be singing like a canary before we're finished - and what's left of you can be sold for a tidy profit when we're done.''

_Secrets_; they wanted government secrets. They hadn't mentioned - or even alluded to - Jaime's bionics so there was still hope she could overtake them. But with no clue from Jaime and the car quickly moving out of her transmitter's range, Steve was helpless to assist her any further. There was nothing more over the speaker; only static.

* * *

''We just missed them, Oscar,'' the OSI back-up team reported from the front entrance. There was no sign of Jaime or the gunman, although a witness reported seeing a young blonde woman pushed into a gray four-door sedan. It wasn't much to go on but it was all they had. Up in the hotel room, the static had faded to dead air and Oscar was scrambling to put every man he could muster into the hotel lobby...when suddenly the static returned. Then they heard voices again.

''You won't be so brave in a few more minutes...'' someone was saying. (The car had suddenly come _back _into range!)

''Jaime, give us something..._anything_!'' Steve instructed (now that he knew she could probably hear him again).

Her voice was still calm and very clear. ''If we're having lunch first, shouldn't we hit the restaurant? The cooks'll be kinda ticked if we just barge in and -''

''_Shut up!_'' one of the gunmen snarled.

It had been enough. ''They're going in the service entrance in back, by the kitchen,'' Oscar told his men.

''So you work here, then...?'' they heard Jaime say.

''Head for the service elevators - every floor,'' Oscar ordered over the datacom.

''Keep it up, Sweetheart; you're doing fine,'' Steve said quietly into the mic.

Jaime's captors led her through the kitchen and opened a door then forced her down a flight of stairs into what looked like a small storage room. ''All this food...and you're not even gonna feed me, huh?'' she said as lightly as she could manage. It was the last clue she was able to give; the gunmen had heard enough.

''Tie her up - and _gag her_- until we're ready. When Adolph gets here with the shot...she'll cooperate. She won't have a choice.''

_Pentothal_, Steve thought, _or worse._ ''Jaime,'' he transmitted, ''do whatever it takes...but do _not _let them give you that shot!''


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

'Do whatever it takes...but do **not** let them give you that shot,' Steve had told her. _Yeah, I kinda figured that out on my own_, Jaime thought to herself. What she hadn't quite figured out yet was what she was going to do to prevent it. While they had been circling through downtown DC (probably with the intention of shaking off any potential rescuers...and it had worked) they'd tried to terrorize her with threats of what would happen once they reached their destination - but for Jaime (who had faced down Grant Kingsley and won) their threats held little weight. A needle, on the other hand, would take away her 'fight'...and she knew it.

Quickly, she began weighing her options. She could wedge a finger between the ropes and break them easily but with a gunman just yards away in the tiny storeroom, did she even stand a chance of making it up the stairs to the door? Had she given Steve and the others enough clues to find her in time? (And how much time did she have, anyway?) Jaime just didn't know for sure...and couldn't count on it.

* * *

With no further clues (or even a sound) from Jaime, Steve had to assume her captors had made good on their word...and gagged her. If she wasn't fighting now, she was either hurt, incapacitated...or staring down the barrel of a gun. Oscar had sent men to the service elevator on every level but they'd come up empty-handed. They weren't even hearing much of anything through the speaker; wherever Jaime was being held, it was well-insulated. The only thing Steve knew for sure was that they were running out of time.

''Jaime, if there's anything you can do to get away, you need to do that _now_,'' he said calmly into the mic. ''Don't worry about bringing them down; just get yourself out of there...and safe.'' Personal overtook professional for just a moment as he had to add ''I love you, Sweetheart.''

* * *

Steve's voice spurred Jaime to as much action as she dared to take. She separated her ankles just enough to weaken the rope that held them, without being noticeable. Then she hooked her right thumb and index finger through the rope around her wrists and sat quietly, hoping the right moment might present itself. Suddenly she heard the door open at the top of the stairs and there was no more waiting for the right time. She had no choice but to take her chances.

Up in the hotel room, Steve heard the door too - and the voice that promised he would 'take care of this little lady just fine'. _Come on, Jaime_, he pleaded in his mind. Over the speaker (and through the headphones) they all heard the gunshot and the sound of something falling. (A crate? A wooden chair?) And then all hell broke loose.

Jaime broke the bonds on her legs and wrists almost simultaneously, before the interrogator had a chance to come down the stairs. She dove desperately but determinedly at the gunman's feet as he fired the first shot, bringing him down by the ankles and crushing the crate she'd been sitting on as it slid out from beneath her and crashed into the wall. Her eyes were still on the gun as it wavered in the air, pointing toward her, toward the ceiling and toward the floor as she fought to control the gunman's arm. She heard the awful sound of a bone snapping as she pinned him to the floor...and crushed his gun in her hand. The interrogator had frozen in place for a moment in the mayhem, watching it all unfold, but was now nearly upon her. Jaime reached up to the nearest shelf, pulled down the first thing she could grab - an industrial-sized can of beans - and threw it at his head. Back-up began streaming down the stairs...but it wasn't back-up for her. Jaime took aim with another can and pitched it with all her strength at the last one in line, sending him toppling down the stairs and knocking his cohorts down with him like a row of dominoes.

Finally, she pulled the gag from her mouth. ''Cellar below the kitchen,'' she gasped. ''I think...I got 'em all...but could use some help now!''

No one up in the hotel room tried to stop Steve as he tossed the headphones to Oscar and ran from the room. He beat every team to the kitchen...and found Jaime on the floor. She'd pushed a freezer in front of the cellar door to block anyone who might try to escape (if any of them were able) and then collapsed against the wall in an exhausted heap. Steve knelt down beside her and pulled her to his chest, holding her close with his left arm. Oscar's teams could take care of the men in the cellar; Steve had someone far more important to attend to. Jaime leaned into him wordlessly, too shocked by what had just happened to speak or even to cry.

''You did it,'' Steve whispered as the OSI men and NSB penguins began flooding the kitchen. ''And I am _so _proud of you!''

''_We _did it...'' Jaime told him in a voice weak with relief. ''We really did it!''


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

''I'm alright,'' Jaime insisted. ''Stop fussing over me!''

''You deserve to be 'fussed over','' Mark Conrad told her.

''The men you apprehended will be interrogated as we speak,'' Oscar explained. ''From their hospital beds, of course.''

''I didn't...kill anyone...did I?'' Jaime asked softly.

''Does that really matter, with what they were going to do to you?'' Steve shot back.

''It matters to me.''

''No one was killed,'' Oscar added. ''We've sent the injection they intended to give you to the lab for analysis, but it looks like quite a cocktail.''

''And since they didn't take your bionics into account,'' Rudy said gently, ''it would've been an overdose.''

''At least I wouldn't have spilled my guts,'' Jaime joked. No one laughed.

''She's fine,'' Rudy announced, finally done checking her over. ''Although I'm not too sure about her sense of humor...''

It was Oscar's turn - and time for a more thorough debriefing. ''Jaime,'' he began,''did they say anything to you about the conference - or who might be behind all of this?''

Jaime thought back through the entire incident for anything she might be able to give Oscar. There was nothing from when she was in the cellar, but...

''When we were in the car, I heard the name 'Williams','' she said almost reluctantly. ''And later...the name 'Chris'.'' (It couldn't be...could it?)

''I'm on it,'' Oscar said immediately. ''I want Chris Williams transferred from his cell to the Hole,'' he instructed the team waiting outside the hotel room door.

''Let me take a shot at him, Oscar,'' Steve requested. He turned to Rudy. '''Bout time this sling comes off, wouldn't you say?''

* * *

''I have to hand it to you,'' Steve began, walking into the Hole where Chris Williams was handcuffed to the tiny bench. ''Pulling it off from a Federal cell had to be tough...and you almost did it.''

''Always great to see you, Steve,'' Williams smirked. ''But as usual, you're talking in circles.''

''Got something against 'Peace' now, do you?'' Steve persisted.

''Circles.''

''Your front men are talking up a storm,'' Steve lied, ''so you might as well spill the rest.''

''Don't forget I was trained in interrogation too. Nice try though.''

They seemed to have reached an impasse, with each man trying to stare the other down. But for Steve, an impasse was totally unacceptable...

* * *

Oscar headed out to attend to multiple prisoners and their interrogations and Jaime leaned back against the pillows of the hotel room's bed, in a doctor-ordered position of enforced relaxation. Mark swung himself into the nearest chair and set his crutches against the wall, his eyes on the face of his patient (who was looking pale and shell-shocked). ''First thing on your mind?'' he asked gently.

''It's not Chris...it can't be...''

After her entire ordeal that morning, _this_ was what was troubling her - and Mark wasn't surprised. He'd read every bit of Jaime's background file. He knew how close she and Chris had once been...and how Chris had very nearly killed her. Mark had no doubt that the effects (which had probably never been _truly_dealt with) were exceedingly painful - and exacerbated by today's revelation. ''He's tried to kill you once before...'' Mark reminded her gently.

Jaime shook her head sadly. She didn't remember her relationship with Chris or the crash he'd orchestrated that had come so close to killing her. Her only memories of him were from the hospital, of waking up and facing his frustration (and later his fury) at her lack of recognition...and of course, the gun he'd pulled on Steve. Still, none of it made sense to her. Chris didn't strike Jaime as evil (the way Kingsley had been). ''That doesn't make him...an _international criminal_! He just...I don't understand...'' she whispered.

Rudy reached over from his own chair on the other side of the bed and patted Jaime's shoulder. ''Hopefully Steve can get some answers - for all of us.''

* * *

''What were you possibly hoping to gain?'' Steve seethed with quiet anger.

''I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. And no interest in listening to you, either,'' Chris sneered.

''Well you don't really have a choice. And you nearly got my wife killed today - so I think I deserve some answers. And so does Jaime!''

''Your..._wife_?''

''You heard me. Your 'sources' leave that part out, Williams?''

''_Jaime_...wasn't supposed to be working that conference; _you were_.''

_Gotcha_, Steve thought with satisfaction. _Prior knowledge_. ''Interesting that you bring up a conference, since the only thing I said was the word 'peace'. You're caught, Chris. And you're already 'down' for the rest of your life for what you did to Jaime, arranging that car crash - so you might as well tell me the rest. Or you can tell the NSB - and I doubt they'll be quite as 'peaceful' about this as I am.''

* * *

When Steve returned to the hotel room, Rudy and Mark stayed close to Jaime, both keeping a close eye on her reaction to whatever news she was about to hear. ''The good news is you weren't a target this time,'' Steve told her. ''I was - and the OSI was - but he had no idea you'd be well enough to be here.''

''Why...?''

Steve perched himself on the edge of the bed. ''He blamed me for 'taking you away from him' - and the OSI for putting him away. He wanted me gone and the OSI discredited in the worst way he could come up with. We're still working on how he got the funding and made the contacts to pull this off - and especially how he got his Intel - but he's definitely our man.''

''He's _not __**my **_man...'' Jaime said softly, taking Steve's hand.

''And that's exactly what 'broke' him,'' Steve concluded.

''So you're saying...this is really...over?'' Jaime asked.

''We can still keep our eyes - and your ear - on the hotel in two more days,'' Steve told her, ''but I think the Peacekeepers can finally meet...in peace.''

Jaime was _not _convinced...


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Jaime was _not_ convinced. ''Chris is in prison - _Federal_ prison - this just seems too 'pat'. Too easy! I didn't hear those men actually say Chris had done anything; I just heard his _name_.''

Steve frowned. ''Are you defending him? Seriously?''

''No, but -''

''Sweetheart, he _confessed_!''

Jaime shook her head. ''Disrupting an entire international conference just to kill you? A bullet from a hired gun would've left you just as dead. And just to discredit the OSI? Awfully feeble. Just...feeble.''

From the corner, Oscar was listening with great interest as his two best operatives' instincts seemed to be at complete odds with one another. From their seats on either side of the bed, Rudy and Mark's eyes were bouncing like tennis balls between their two squabbling patients.

''I. Got. A. Confession.'' Steve seethed quietly. (Why was she arguing with him?)

''I heard you the first time. And the second. But...what did you have to do to him to get it?''

''This one was totally by the book,'' Steve insisted.

''_Our _book...or the NSB's?'' Jaime wondered.

''That was a cheap shot.''

''Take a deep breath,'' Mark Conrad demanded. ''_Both _of you! Neutral corners. You're on the same side here...remember?''

Steve looked guiltily down at the floor and Jaime suddenly found fascination in a lint ball on the blanket. ''I'm sorry...'' they both whispered.

Mark nodded, even though neither one was looking up to see it. ''Now suppose we try this again.''

''Ladies first,'' Steve said softly.

''That confession...just seems weak. You might be a little too eager to wrap this up, without stepping back and taking a look at the whole picture,'' Jaime explained in a calmer voice.

''Sweetheart, I was there; I know what I saw and heard.''

''And...it all adds up for you?'' Jaime persisted.

''Well...no. But it's enough for now. He's locked up. And thanks to you, his cronies are locked up -''

''Probably not _all_ of them,'' Jaime pointed out. ''Oscar, did any of the men we caught today visit Chris in prison? Or visit _anyone _at that prison?''

''No,'' came the answer from the corner. ''It doesn't appear so.''

''Then at the very least, there's still an accomplice - or three...or ten - out there somewhere. Or more likely, _here _somewhere,'' Jaime deduced. ''And I still say Chris is just a patsy - someone they paid well to take this fall for them and steer you as far off course as possible.''

''And I still don't know why you're trying to defend someone who tried to kill you twice,'' Steve replied.

''Once. According to what you said yourself, only once.''

''And that's so much better?'' Steve asked pointedly. ''Sorry...'' he added, at Mark's raised eyebrow of warning. He took his voice back down a few decibels. ''Jaime, Chris is unstable. He's angry and it's conceivable that he could manage to pull this off.''

''Oscar?'' Jaime asked, looking toward their boss to mediate this latest impasse.

Oscar tried to be as diplomatic as he could manage. ''The confession _is _a little shaky - and we're still exploring other possibilities - but unless and until one of the men in the hospital tells us anything, it's all we have to go on.''

Jaime looked back at her husband. ''Put the headphones on; I wanna go back downstairs.''

''Absolutely not! They know who you are now!'' Steve reminded her.

''Then get me a good wig and a big floppy hat. But if they think they're safe, it's the ideal time for me to overhear...something.''

''Help me out here?'' Steve requested of the three men in the room.

''She's healthy,'' Rudy offered.

''She's got a point, Pal,'' Oscar agreed.

Mark could only shrug. This was simply not his call to make. Jaime _did_ have an excellent point...but Steve's concerns were valid ones.

* * *

Within the hour, Jaime had her way. The willowy brunette with long curly hair sat down by the lobby fireplace with a sandwich in her hand and a book in her lap. The din from her surroundings filled the speaker upstairs...for the first few minutes. Then as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch, the speaker - and the headphones - went deathly silent.

''Jaime, we've lost you! Abort!'' Steve instructed.

Down in the lobby, Jaime frowned as the conversations she'd been sorting through were replaced by a low-pitched drone...then winced in pain as the drone became a steady, high-pitched whine. ''Steve...are you hearing this?'' she asked.

There was a tap on her shoulder. ''Manager, Ma'am. There's a call for you in my office.''

''You have ID?'' Jaime asked. Once she'd inspected it, she got up and followed him into the office, heading toward his desk and the phone.

Without another word, the night manager closed the door...and plunged a needle into her arm. He dragged Jaime's limp body down the back hallway that ran between the office suites and out into the alley where a car was waiting.

* * *

Half an hour later, she was lying on a metal interrogation table. After a few more minutes, Jaime opened her eyes groggily and looked around the room. The questions began immediately.

''Who do you work for?''

''Oscar...Goldman...''

''And he's in charge of the Peacekeepers' Conference?''

''Yes...of course he is...'' Jaime slurred.

''Does he have the security codes with him?''

''Not using...codes anymore. Is...fingerprints.''

''_Dammit - better tell Renshaw_,'' someone said from across the room.

''Alright. Does Goldman have the fingerprint files with him?'' the interrogator went on.

''Of...course...''

''And where might we find him?''

''Room...341.''

''_Watch her_,'' the interrogator ordered.

When Jaime was alone with the man who'd been left to guard her, she reached down and broke a metal bar from the side of the table and flung it at him...then plucked the needle from where it was still imbedded in her right arm. She flew out the door and wasn't sure exactly where she was (since she'd feigned unconsciousness in the car) but quickly found a corner deli where she could use the phone.

''I'm alright,'' was the first thing she told Steve.

''Jaime - thank God! Where are you?''

''Listen to me; you only have about 10 minutes! Get as many teams up there as you can because there are men on their way expecting to find Oscar. And tell Oscar I know who's really behind all of this - who's been behind it all along. It's Senator Renshaw.''


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

While Oscar's teams rounded up the latest wave of hired guns, Steve, Rudy and Mark Conrad drove to the deli to pick up Jaime. Rudy insisted on transporting her to National, just to be on the safe side, once he heard about the pain that had accompanied her ear's malfunction. It appeared to have been caused by a frequency scrambler (and thus no danger to Jaime) but he wanted to be certain.

''Do you realize how risky that was?'' Steve asked, sitting with Jaime in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

''It worked, didn't it?''

''You could've been killed,'' Steve persisted. ''You should've come straight upstairs, the minute your ear malfunctioned. What were you thinking?''

''I was thinking that this needs to be _over_!''

''_Same side_,'' Mark reminded them - before they could start squabbling again. Clearly the stress of the last few days had piled up and was threatening to explode between them...and he wasn't about to let that happen. Both of his patients obligingly took a deep breath...and then they joined hands.

''I could've lost you tonight,'' Steve said softly. ''But I have to admit...you do spectacular work.''

Jaime smiled. ''I had a great teacher.''

''Sweetheart, did you overhear anything that might tell us where to find Renshaw?''

''They...didn't get him?''

''No; but there's still one person who might be able to help us - whether he wants to or not...''

* * *

Steve had left Jaime in Rudy and Mark's capable hands once they arrived at National - and now he stood glaring at the prisoner who remained shackled to the bench in the NSB's 'Hole'.''

''Didn't we cover this already, this morning?'' Chris said with his ever-present smirk.

Steve resisted the urge to force the smirk from his face...for now. ''How 'bout if we cover the truth this time?"

Williams laughed. ''Tell me which 'truth' you're looking for - and I'll see what I can make up for you.''

''Where's Renshaw?'' Steve demanded.

''Oh...that truth. Sorry; can't help you. If the government can't keep track of its own -''

Steve crossed the cell in one stride, broke the shackles that secured Chris to the bench...and slammed him against the wall. ''I am _not _here to play games with you! Did Renshaw pay you to take the fall - or did you still owe him a favor?''

''Resorting to prisoner abuse now, Austin?'' Chris chucked, completely unfazed. ''What would Jaime say?''

''Leave her out of this - or I _will _hurt you,'' Steve seethed through clenched teeth. ''Where's Renshaw?''

There was a knock on the cell door (even though Steve had told the guard they were _not _to be disturbed). The guard opened the door almost apologetically...for Oscar. ''We got him, Pal,'' Oscar announced.

Steve nodded and - without bothering to wait until Oscar had turned away first - delivered a solid blow to Chris's stomach with his left fist. ''That's for Jaime!'' he said with quiet anger, turning on his heels and allowing Williams to slump to the floor.

* * *

''He actually had the nerve to attend the Joint Intelligence Committee briefing tonight,'' Oscar told Steve while they were on their way to National to check on Jaime. ''I suppose after all this time he believed he was invincible - that we'd never catch on to what he was up to.''

''What _was _he up to, exactly?'' Steve puzzled. ''Do we know?''

''Once he knew we had him, he told us everything. In his own twisted mind, the Senator thought he was doing right by this country; basically he said that war is more profitable than peace. He felt the economy would only benefit if our troubles overseas were escalated...and disrupting the Peacekeepers was just one step in his plan.''

''Oh?''

''The rest...you might not want to hear,'' Oscar hedged.

''Tell me.''

''It involves you and Jaime.''

''Then you _have _to tell me,'' Steve insisted.

''In his eyes, Rudy's Bionic Project is too expensive and - since, of course you're both _human _- far too uncontrollable. The other half of his plan, to go hand-in-hand with disrupting the Conference, was to sell the two of you overseas - eliminating what he saw as the drain on our resources and making a tidy profit for himself. He tried to do that for the first time when he helped Parr and Williams arrange Jaime's accident. Then he found a way he thought would accomplish all of his objectives, all at once.''

''Son-of-a -''

''I'm not sure what to tell Jaime,'' Oscar admitted. ''What does she know about the crash?''

''Just what she remembered initially, that Chris was there with a gun in his hand...that he set the whole thing up. And the most simplistic explanation I could come up with as to why. I'm not sure she even knows much about what Parr did; she never asked. We'll have to tell her the rest now,'' Steve supposed. ''Jaime has this..._way_...of getting information from me when she wants it.''

''Just from you, Pal?'' Oscar chuckled. ''From _all_ of us!''

* * *

Jaime took the news that rogue members of her own government had been behind the car crash that had nearly taken her life very quietly. ''I guess I knew...'' she began after letting it sink in for a few moments, ''that I didn't have the whole story. Maybe I wasn't ready to hear it then.''

Mark Conrad (and the others) watched her closely. Had she been 'ready' to hear it now...was it something she could ever have been truly 'ready' to know?

''Are you sure he told you the truth?'' she asked.

''As sure as we can be, Babe,'' Oscar explained. ''We're not done with him yet, but all the pieces fit.''

Jaime nodded thoughtfully, still trying to absorb it all. ''I guess so. What happens now?''

''The conference goes on as scheduled,'' Steve told her, ''and afterward we still have a vacation coming to us. Where would you like to go?''

''Nowhere near the ocean. And no amusement parks either.''

''How about the mountains?'' Oscar suggested. ''Peaceful...beautiful scenery...''

''_Avalanches_,'' Jaime responded.

''San Francisco?'' Steve offered. ''When you were little, you used to love Chinatown.''

''_Earthquakes_.''

''We're running out of options, Sweetheart. How about Dubuque?'' (Steve was only half-joking.)

''_Tornadoes_!'' Jaime shot back, laughing now. ''Ya know what? I think I'd like to go _home_...just the two of us. If I'm in your arms, that's all the 'paradise' I need.''

* * *

END OF EPISODE


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